


Let Sleeping Harolds Lie

by nerdyholler (katznhund)



Series: New Year's Eve Drabbles [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: First Day, M/M, New Years, Post-Trespasser, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 11:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13363767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katznhund/pseuds/nerdyholler
Summary: Dorian invites Harold to Minrathous for the First Day festivities. Harold's a little tired from the trip though.





	Let Sleeping Harolds Lie

The First Day revelries in Minrathous lasted until well past dawn. As the first rays of sunlight flooded into Dorian’s bed chambers, the faint sounds of celebration could still be heard below. He rolled over, placing a languid arm across Harold’s back, half lidded eyes studying the dancing light on his freckled skin.

The months since Dorian had last seen him were almost unbearable. Even Mae had started to roll her eyes at his pining. It would have been safer to to find some inn on the outskirts of Tevinter but he wanted to show Harold the First Day festivities. Away from the mansions of the other magisters they were quite quaint with singing, dancing, an abundance of food, and among the masses, almost no blood magic.

The journey to Minrathous had been tiring and Dorian could sense Harold starting to falter before things really got under way. They made it halfway through the night before Dorian had to guide Harold back to his manor. He’d managed to get him out of his good clothes before Harold collapsed into the bed, but only just.

Dorian began tracing his freckles, trying to connect them into some recognizable a pattern. Harold sighed contentedly, still asleep, and tried to put his arm around Dorian. The now shortened limb fell a few inches short, resting between them against the silk sheets of the bed. Dorian edged himself nearer, nudging himself beneath Harold’s arm and pulling him closer.

“Amatus,” he purred into Harold’s ear, “the morning feasts will be beginning soon. We should get up.”

“No,” Harold murmured into his pillow, stretching his legs until his toes danged over the foot of the bed, then curling back up again.

“I’ve reserved us a seat at the one in the botanical gardens.”

Harold rolled over and opened one eye to look at him. “Do I have to talk to people?”

“Perhaps one or two, friends of mine. Most of the magisters will be somewhere much more showy so we should be safe.”

“Fine.” Harold rubbed his face against his pillow several times in an attempt to wake himself up. “but after, we’re coming back here. I didn’t travel across Thedas to rub elbows with the Tevinter elite. I came here to be with you.”

Harold rolled over on his back and Dorian rested himself on the former Inquisitor’s chest. “Let me show you the city, for a while, then we’ll come back here and you may do whatever you wish with me.”

“Is that a promise?”

“It is.” Dorian kissed Harold’s forehead, then the tip of his nose, and finally his lips. “Happy First Day, amatus. Let us see what the new year brings.”


End file.
